


Feathers in his hair

by randomhorrors



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Drabble, Fluff, Hubert rides a Pegasus, M/M, Wyvern rider Ferdinand, ambiguous setting, bless the Ferdibert server, ferdibert, head empty no plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:27:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22103305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/randomhorrors/pseuds/randomhorrors
Summary: Hubert swallows a cold lump and grasps Ferdinand's hand. It is steady and firm and familiar and Hubert surrenders to letting him take him away. Toward the creature he has dreamed of, and only revealed in secret. How did Ferdinand know? Better yet, how did he accomplish such a feat? Hubert begins to question the borders of this dream. When will it end? He wants to sink back into his thoughts and doubt, but Ferdinand is putting his hand on the nose of the pegasus and he is stroking it, gently, feeling it's warmth through the black leather of his gloves.
Relationships: Ferdinand von Aegir/Hubert von Vestra
Comments: 5
Kudos: 64





	Feathers in his hair

**Author's Note:**

> Idea fed to me by the lovelies on the Ferdibert server. I just thought it was sweet.

He thinks it must surely be a dream, because he is standing there, waiting for him, white feathers in his hair. 

Encapsulated in the light of the setting sun, turning his hair the color of flames. Silhouetted by a burning halo. The very image of untouchable beauty. As ephemeral as the last rays of sunlight behind him.

Hubert thinks if he could capture just one moment for eternity, it would be this one; he does not need to feel him for it to be perfect, only watch him stand, proud and strong and sure of himself. Audacious and vibrant and wild, but steadier now. Following his path, and still Ferdinand. Inescapable and inexcusable.

"Are you ready?" Ferdinand asks, and sweeps and errant lock of hair away from his face, as casually as if he were not touching spun gold.

"I can't," Hubert stammers, and is ashamed of the catch in his own voice. It always starts that way. No matter how many years of practice he has put into his manner of speech, leveling his tones just so, mastering the art of using his words as weapons--he is always outmatched by Ferdinand's ease and grace.

"You can! I have spent months training her, Hubert," Ferdinand reassures. And then he is offering Hubert his hand, reaching toward him, and Hubert is helpless to accept. "She perfectly suits your temperament, I can assure you. Gentle, quiet, patient..."

Ferdinand is watching Hubert while he lists the pegasus's traits. Hubert scoffs internally at the idea of him being taken as _gentle._ If anything--

"If you stand there much longer, you will miss seeing the sunset! Come on, you stubborn man. Do not make my efforts in vain."

Hubert swallows a cold lump and grasps Ferdinand's hand. It is steady and firm and familiar and Hubert surrenders to letting him take him away. Toward the creature he has dreamed of, and only revealed in secret. How did Ferdinand know? Better yet, how did he accomplish such a feat? Hubert begins to question the borders of this dream. When will it end? He wants to sink back into his thoughts and doubt, but Ferdinand is putting his hand on the nose of the pegasus and he is stroking it, gently, feeling it's warmth through the black leather of his gloves.

There is tension between them, two opposites meeting at once. It is familiar and brings him some comfort at last. He finds himself smiling, coaxed out of his shroud by a creature of pure beauty and light. Things he had forbidden for himself. Things he had hidden away.

"Why are you looking at me?" Ferdinand asks, interrupting his reverie. Hubert looks at the pegasus again. "There now, isn't she perfect?"

"Yes," Hubert says, and again feels the fear of staining something lovely. He draws his hand back, slowly. "Thank you, Ferdinand. I--"

"Well climb on!" Ferdinand insists, and tugs Hubert toward the saddle. "I didn't train her just to be petted, you silly vulture. If you waste much more time it will be full dark."

"I can't, Ferdinand, I'm not--"

"Well neither am I, and yet here we are. She accepted me, and I know she will accept you. If you will not accept her in return she is liable to be upset, you know." Ferdinand pauses, and gives him a look that is downright conspiratorial. "Picky creatures are stubborn. Who knows what they will do if rejected by the one they choose to trust."

His words bite.

"What is her name, then?"

"Minerva," Ferdinand answers brightly. "Careful of her wings. Here, let me help you."

Hubert doesn't have a choice. Ferdinand is lifting him as easily as a child. He is deposited onto the back of the pegasus with the care of a sack of bones, and feels the pegasus's flesh jump beneath him. He worries he will be thrown immediately, but after stomping her hooves a few times, Minerva settles and snorts and waits patiently.

"How do I--" but before Hubert can finish his question, Ferdinand has hoisted himself onto the back of his own mount. A proud wyvern that has never hesitated to meet Hubert's eyes with disturbing intelligence. He clicks his tongue and Minerva spreads her wings. Hubert scrambles to grab the reins in time, and has his breath knocked out of him as she launches into the air.

This is it, he thinks. He will surely die. He is going to faint on the back of this beautiful creature and fall to his death. He comforts himself with the knowledge that his contingency plans will take effect and Edelgard will be secure.

Then he hears laughter, as loud and bright as the morning star, and finally opens his eyes.

They sting with tears--from the wind, surely--as he takes in the sight of the world far below, a green and gold gem, bathed in the dying sunlight. There on the horizon is the blistering twilight, the sun capping the curve of the world, the sky above fading from red, to gold, to inky black. The first stars alight.

And Ferdinand beside him, joyous, bright, burning. Smiling like a child, laughing like an idiot. Lovely and beloved; a jewel.

The wind soars past his head, pushing his hair from his eyes and face, whipping around him. The sting makes it real, and Hubert is laughing too; breathless and bewildered. He is free, he is _flying_ , and for once he is not afraid of heights, for he knows who will catch him if he falls.

A dream come true.


End file.
